Honesty vs Manners

Everyone has probably seen or experienced the time-old tale of someone with food stuck in their teeth, and the following dilemma of which is more rude; telling someone they have food stuck in their teeth or NOT telling them and letting them go around in public looking like an animal. The same scenario can be applied to any kind of bodily faux pas; a booger hanging out of the nose, food stuck on the face, one tuft of hair sticking straight up, mascara pooling under the eyes, and my personal favorite, farting. 

Farting, as gross as it is, is perfectly natural, and not usually something to be ashamed of. Unless you are doing it on purpose to try and poison the people around you, like my husband did one time on a car trip back from Vegas, you don't have to feel like a bad person for farting. However, I think very few people can do it in public without feeling embarrassed. I certainly can't. 

The reason I pose this karmic question is because today at work, someone walked by my desk and was literally farting with every step they took. It was hilarious. However,  I didn't feel it would be in good taste to laugh, so I tried my hardest to pretend like I heard nothing. It was really, really hard. I mean, people fart, it's ok. I've had bad bowel days, especially since being pregnant. I'll never forget the first time I sneezed and farted at the same time, and I'm just grateful everyone around me was wearing headphones at the time.

Being an empathetic person, I feel very strongly that when people fart in public, the best thing to do is to pretend like you didn't hear it and save them the embarassment of calling attention to it. However, shouldn't the person at least say "excuse me" and acknowledge they did it? I realize there is a thread of hope that I think everyone hangs onto when they fart in front of someone else, namely, "Oh... maybe they didn't hear it." Nope. We heard it. I personally will try to play it off like it's my shoes making weird squeaky noises, or my stomach being particularly raucous, (TOOT!! "Oh man, my stomach is out of control today! It must have been that [insert food] I had earlier.") which rarely works but makes me feel less disgusting.

In any case, I'm torn between really wanting someone to own up to their flatulance and clearing the air (both literally and figuratively), and being totally ok letting us both pretend like nothing happened, even though we are both clearly aware of the truth. I think there's something very admirable about someone who is willing to accept that nature happens, and just say, "Excuse me!" and move on. It takes courage and I find that level of integrity worth striving for. For he who smelt it doth not always dealt it, but he who doth deny it most likely hath supplied it.

Last Day Blues?

As I prepare for my maternity leave (which officially starts today at 4:45, woot!), I’m reflecting on my workplace with the same amount of nostalgia and disgust that someone would if they were leaving for good. I’m not leaving for good, unfortunately, because we really can’t afford for me to not be bringing in a mediocre paycheck, which makes me sad. But I like being able to afford satellite television and delicious snack food, so I put up with it. It can’t all be my husband’s responsibility, and I recognize that.


In any case, I was inspired to compile the following lists.


Things I will not miss about work:

-Working

-The lady who hacks up copious amounts of phlegm and lung tissue every 10 minutes

-Listening to the incompetent guy who was hired to replace me give incorrect instructions to coworkers

-Being woken up by people who are incapable of recognizing what a breakroom nap looks like

-The annoying, TMI lady who is always, always, always in the breakroom at the same time as me

-Pretending to be busy

-Getting contradicting instructions from my supervisor and lead

-Dealing with the stupidity of people I am forced to share existence with

-Using a public restroom that, more often than not, smells like the monkey house at Chicago's Brookfield Zoo


Things I will miss about work:

-A paycheck

-Having the opportunity to listen to music or audiobooks while getting paid

-Having a special drawer in my desk that is filled with snacks

-Some of the truly awesome people I get to work with

-Emailing snarky remarks to my sister and her co-worker

-Observing remarkable examples of human stupidity in the form of subscriber and doctor names

-Having air conditioning that I don’t pay for

-Vending machines. Seriously, when I have to drive to the store rather than walk down the hall to satisfy my chocolate cravings, life is going to seem so bleak.

-Unlimited access to office supplies. Sometimes you just need a Sharpie.

-Creating elaborate fictional stories about the co-workers I can’t stand

-Department potlucks

-Human interaction

I was just in the process of typing out that part of me really will miss coming to work and interacting with people (who, for the most part are very kind and supportive and make working for an insurance company more than tolerable), and then I received an email from my lead telling me I made a mistake on a claim that he personally walked me through. All feelings of nostalgia have flown out the window. Hulk Smash is back. So now I’m all pissed again, and thinking that 4:45 can’t come fast enough.

Hometown Hobbies

I work for a health insurance company as a claim processor. The company is actually pretty great to work for, which people are always surprised to hear. I've been referred to as a "soul-sucking beurocrat" by over-zealous liberals, even though they don't even know what company I work for or anything. Oh well. I have come to realize that people generally suspect the worst about any kind of entity that costs them money.... which is why I don't understand the blind acceptance of government agencies by these same people, but whatever. Discussion for another time.


My company is a not-for-profit company and is very focused on community involvement and volunteer work. They encourage the formation of a bajillion employee committees to improve charitable activites and volunteerism, and they want to bring it into the workplace as much as possible without affecting productivity (naturally). One of the things the employee involvement committee in my area has decided to is give everyone a sheet of paper to write about what we do in our spare time and include a photo or two. Then they hang these papers on a bulletin board in the center of the department so people can stop and learn things about their co-workers they wouldn't otherwise have known.

I thought this was a pretty good idea, if for no other reason than it gave me a way to kill 15 minutes of time that I otherwise didn't want to spend working. Seriously, the prospect of maternity leave is so delightful that it's making me really not care so much about the quality or quantity of my work. It's pretty bad. I've been spending extensive time mocking the stupid names that people pick for their children (like two people in the same family with the legal first name of "Sweetheart") and dancing in my seat to the Newsies soundtrack. Really, what's better than Christian Bale singing about the joys of "Sante Fe"? Nothing, that's what.

There's nothing like the prospect of 5 months of vacation to make you loathe your job and fantasize about getting fired.

Anyway, on this sheet of paper I wrote about my involvement in music. I wrote that I sing opera at the community college, jazz with friends from another town's college, that I play piano on my own time (sparingly, but they don't need to know the details of my laziness). I also posted some pictures that I may or may not have printed out using the company copy machines. Whatever. I'm the only who knows how to replace the toner in those damn machines so I deserve special priviliges. Right? Right. My page was hung up with the others that showcased news clippings about peoples' children or pictures of them at concerts of their favorite country artists, or photos of them at the rodeo. .....Most of the people at my work are a little bit country.

So as people walk by this board they are all stopping and reading my page because it's the most recent addition, and they walk away looking completely confused. I can't figure it out, there's nothing confusing about my narrative or my photos, nothing inappropriate or anything.

Finally a lady stops at my desk and inquires about my music hobbies.

"So.... you sing opera? Like.... viking helmet kind of opera? That's so interesting. But I didn't think there was anybody in Redding that did that kind of thing. And I didn't think you could sing both opera and jazz. That's so interesting."

Sigh. Sometimes I forget that the little city I live in is completely unaware of what happens in the outside world.

I politely explained to her that you can, in fact, sing as many different types of music as you want, and that the local community college has a great opera program that does a show every year and that opera isn't nearly as boring as people think. And that it doesn't always involve viking helmets. She seemed receptive, but I was still getting weird looks from people all day. Maybe if the viking helmet was replaced by a cowboy hat they'd be less likely to find my hobby so strange. I could write an opera that featured a romance between a middle-aged country woman and a young, shirtless and obviously ripped ranch-hand with a penchant for classic rock. I could call it "Getting' Randy and Livin' Rowdy: A country woman's passion" or something.

I have made it my mission to expose these people to as much new culture as possible. I hope they're prepared. But it'll have to wait until December because I'm out of here as of tomorrow. I will then be spending glorious time at home trying to recreate Christina Bale's cowboy dance from the "Sante Fe" scene of Newsies.